


Just Watch Me Now

by atomic_brunette



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, I mean lots, Kinda, M/M, Miss Congeniality References, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Stripper Bucky Barnes, Strippers & Strip Clubs, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, War Veteran Clint Barton, War Veteran Steve Rogers, and of course the howlies, and steve's just a lucky spectator, but bucky's a male entertainer, howling commandos but they own a bar, lots of innuendos, love at first sight trope, no betas we die like men, not quite smut, well maybe a bit more than that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-11-04 04:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17891306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomic_brunette/pseuds/atomic_brunette
Summary: For most people he brought on stage, it was just a routine. It was mostly just to give the crowd a show, something nice to think about later in their beds. It was easy to go through the motions without his body reacting in ways he didn’t want it to on stage. This man, though, seemed to be an exception. Bucky couldn’t give two shits about the cheers in the audience, he just cared about pleasing the man in front of him.Or: Bucky's a stripper/entertainer and Steve ends up in the right place at the right time





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a pilot than anything, so if people seem to like it I'll post more. If it continues it will have plenty of plot and fluff, not just strip club-centric. 
> 
> The song Bucky's dancing to in the beginning is Knee Socks by Arctic Monkeys and during the...other...part is Watch Me by The Phantoms. I wrote this all in one sitting and it's unbeta'd and probably pretty rough, so I guarantee there'll be edits done later if it goes well. Enjoy!

James Buchanan Barnes, also known as Bucky to those who were lucky enough to know it and Sin Himself to those lucky enough to see him perform, was the most notorious yet anonymous man in all of Brooklyn. His days were spent preparing drinks and serving food at the local bar owned by his war buddies and his nights at the Lucky Seven’s strip club where one could find him dressed in fine revealing outfits that put all the other dancers to shame, regardless of gender.

Every evening he wore a mask that covered the bottom half of his face, leaving only his eyes and that beautiful lithe body to view. Not even the other dancers knew his real name, what his face looked like, nor what his day job was or where he lived. He was known only as the Soldier, the name he took when seducing anyone privileged enough to see him sway his hips on that stage or privately for those who could afford it. Still, he never spoke, not even to his regular customers who paid his rent two times over in one sitting. Those eyes though, those were enough to get him anything and any _one_ he wanted. They were his weapon of choice and had gotten him both in and out of many situations, both good and bad.

There were a few customers who he let take him around back and fuck him until he shouldn’t be able to walk much less dance, but he always left the room with those hips swaying sinfully. As was required, those customers produced regular documents proclaiming them free of any sexually transmitted diseases and protection was always, _always_ involved.

Point was, whether in lacy panties or casual clothes, men and women alike swooned over the same long-haired man.

Unfortunately, it was just that: lust. The women all wanted him to bend them over a table for a couple of nights, the men either wanted to fuck him senseless or vice versa. They all ended the same way; a one (or couple) night stand and then zip.

Bucky, for the most part, didn’t mind. Most of them he turned down unless of course they were well-paying clients, and he was _perfectly fine being alone, thank you very much Natasha_. He mostly never gave them a second glance.

At least not until one night when he was upside-down on a pole, dog tags threatening to fall off his neck, caught only by the clasp of his mask. He scanned the crowd, something he did on a regular basis while performing. The more he could draw in with his eyes, the more would be willing to throw some extra bills on stage.

What? Any extra he made always went to the local VA.

He saw some regulars, one or two of his special clients, but only one really caught his eye. It was someone new, or at least that he’d never seen before- and Bucky _knew_ he’d remember seeing such a gorgeous sight. He was near the front of the stage and was the very definition of tall, blond, and handsome. He was well-built (and wearing a gloriously tight t-shirt that looked two sizes too small) with broad shoulders and a trim waist, had a strong jaw and facial features, and was watching Bucky with a slight amused smirk.

He was perfect prey.

The Soldier maneuvered himself upright and slid down the pole in one fluid motion before stalking to the edge of the stage. Tonight he wore one of his favorite outfits, one that perfectly complimented his persona: black combat boots, an empty thigh holster, very tight and very short black shorts with a belt, black fingerless gloves, another empty gun holster around his shoulders, and his signature dog tags, which he only ever wore on stage or during the daytime. They were his actual dog tags from his days in the marines, and though they looked marvelous on stage he never risked letting clients know his identity. The whole look was tied together with his hair tastefully messy and dark makeup around his eyes.

This guy was different; for some reason Bucky couldn’t give two shits whether he knew. He wasn’t sure why, it just felt like some unspeakable familiarity.

That’s a romantic idea, isn’t it? Love at first sight in a strip club?

He reached the edge of the stage where spectators tucked cash into his boots; the only place they were ever allowed to touch unless otherwise specified. His own rules.

The Soldier knelt and curled his finger in a beckoning motion at the man, who only tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. Some other guy (also handsome, but not quite as stunning as the blond) nudged his arm and urged him on. Bucky reached out a hand, which the man took, and hefted him onto stage. He kept his gasp on the guy’s hand and led him to the center of the stage before moving his grip to the man’s hip, pulling him close and running the other hand through his hair sensually.

“Is this okay?” He asked, close to his ear and just loud enough to be heard through his muffling mask and over the music. The man glanced back at his friend before looking back, grinning and giving a slight nod.

“If at any point you’re uncomfortable, safe word’s ‘winter.’” Bucky replied, thankful the mask hid his grin. Few people got this treatment and normally scheduled it in advance with high pay, and even they didn’t hear his voice- those contracts were taken care by Natasha, who happened to work at the club. She and the actual owner were the only two in the club who knew his identity outside of entertainment.

A man dressed in all black placed a chair behind the blond. He gave a short nod to the crewman to change the music- it was time for _the_ song, the one he’d been saving for a particularly good dance. He wasn’t exactly in his stripping attire since tonight was aimed more towards pole dancing, but Bucky could make do.

When the music started, Bucky slowly lowered the blond into the chair by way of a hand against his chest. He circled the chair predatorily with each step to the beat, one hand trailing along the man’s chest and shoulders the entire time, eyes never leaving his prey. He came to a rest in front of him and Bucky ran both hands along the man’s broad shoulders before placing his legs on either side of the chair, rolling his hips a few times for show. He crossed his arms behind his head, hands winding down either side of his neck and down his chest until they landed on his belt buckle.

_“From up here you can’t beat the view…” damn straight,_ Bucky thought.

He deftly unbuckled it in the small silence of the song, quickly sliding the belt free with one hand and earning a cheer from the crowd when it dropped again.

He smirked beneath the mask when the man’s eyes darted from Bucky’s eyes to the belt and back again. He played with the belt for a few beats, winding it over both hands while his body kept the motion going. When he was satisfied, he lowered himself into the man’s lap and ran his hands down the man’s chest. He both saw and felt the familiar outline of dog tags beneath his shirt and glanced back up. While he kept moving to give the crowd a show, he leaned close again.

“Vet?” He asked, his face blocking the man’s from the crowd’s view for him to answer. He received another nod in return. “I’m going to buckle this around your wrists. I’ll keep it loose, you’ll be able to get free easily. Is that okay?” He checked. He knew what triggered his bad memories, but wanted to check in with this man. His clients’ comfort always came first.

“You’re grounding enough.” He answered, and damn even his _voice_ was hot.

“Anything triggers you, you use that safe word and I’ll stop immediately.” Bucky reassured lowly. The man lifted his hands and gave him a challenging look. He couldn’t help the low chuckle that left his lips as he wrapped the belt around loosely, true to his word.

The dance went wonderfully, and if he was judging by the way the man’s tight pants had somehow gotten even tighter by the end of it, it was successful. Bucky was thankful his own shorts disguised his arousal well.

For most people he brought on stage, it was just a routine. It was mostly just to give the crowd a show, something nice to think about later in their beds. It was easy to go through the motions without his body reacting in ways he didn’t want it to on stage. This man, though, seemed to be an exception. Bucky couldn’t give two shits about the cheers in the audience, he just cared about pleasing the man in front of him.

_Easy, Barnes,_ he scolded himself, _this guy’s just a dance, not a client._

When he led the guy back off stage to finish his night on the pole (unfortunately not the one he had in mind), he found his gaze consistently wandering back to the blond adonis. He swore the fucker knew it too, always catching his eyes and watching with that amused expression.

Unfortunately, when he was done for the night the man and his friend took off. Natasha, who’d watched the whole thing unfold, teased him endlessly backstage and all the way back to their apartment complex.

“ _You think he’s goooorgeous, you want to kiiiiiiss him, you want to looooove him, you want to smoooooch him._ ” She sang.

“Yeah, fuck you Miss Congeniality.” He returned gruffly. Thankfully by that point they had reached his apartment where they parted and she headed on to hers down the hall. Before he could even fix himself a meager dinner of ramen, he got a text from her. It was the _Miss Congeniality_ gif accompanied by:

**I can already hear you jackin it**

He rolled his eyes, but then again once his exhausted ass was in bed...she wasn’t exactly wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky works at the bar, the Howling Commandos find out, chaos ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since I've posted. I decided to continue on with this fic and see how it goes! Thank you for the positive feedback on the first chapter, you have no idea how much that means to me!

The next morning, Bucky and Natasha went out for muffins and coffee, her treat.

“Look, I’m not saying you should  _ stalk _ the guy, I’m just saying you can have anyone in this damn town you want! Why not him?” She said, waving her muffin emphatically.

“Yeah and you don’t see me sleeping with anyone do you? I’m tired of one night stands, Nat. That’s all anyone wants from me. If I’m gonna be in a relationship, I want it to be just that; a relationship.” He returned before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well, what if he’s the one and you just don’t know it?” She pressed. Natasha was a nosy little shit and was never one to back down from playing devil’s advocate, and it was obvious this was no exception.

He gave her an unamused stare in return.

“You realize how ridiculous that sounds, right? He’s  _ one _ guy I-” he stopped himself, glancing at the other patrons in the coffee shop. He leaned closer to speak in a hushed whisper. “He’s one guy I gave a dance to who just so happened to be hot and who I find insanely attractive. That’s it.”

When she moved to speak again, he cut her off. 

_ “That’s it.” _ He emphasized.

Natasha sighed and sat back in her chair, taking a lazy sip of coffee.

“I’m just saying.” She murmured innocently.

Bucky rolled his eyes and took a bite of his muffin. They were quiet for a moment, which was typical for their friendship. They could go from talking and bantering back and forth one minute to sitting in comfortable silence the next; it was one reason he absolutely loved her. He debated on telling her more details, but knew it would just peak her nagging interest further. 

“So, what do you want to do next? Girl’s day? Get our nails done?” She asked when they finished their meal. Bucky checked his phone for the time.

“Actually, I gotta get to the bar. We’re getting shipments in in about an hour, I gotta unload.”

“I’m sure you did enough of that last night.” She mumbled, earning her a kick under the table.

“Fuck off.” He murmured playfully, giving her a kiss on the top of her head before he took off.

The Howling Commandos bar and grill was only a few blocks away from the apartments and just down the street from the cafe. He and the guys who ran it had served together and established the place when they got back; apparently it was always a dream of Dum Dum’s to own a bar. It was named after their little squad and its style drew inspiration from the 40’s, something they’d thought up when they were brainstorming about the place overseas. It originally started as a joke but, if business was anything to go by, it’d become pretty successful.

“Hey Sarge, you bring enough of those for all of us?” Dum Dum greeted, already hauling boxes in from the back.

“Sorry, you assholes gotta go get your own.” Bucky returned.

“Aw, don’t you love us anymore? Or is that devoted to the Blond Beauty?” Morita pouted.

_ Blond Beauty? _ Motherfucker. He swore sometimes that woman was a spy; he couldn’t trust his information not to be passed promptly to her troops.

“Are you fucking serious? You too?” He groaned, unpacking bottles from the box. 

“Do you expect anything else from that little spider?” Dum Dum questioned.

“No, I suppose not.” He mumbled, sorting out different bottles of booze.

\-----

By the time everything was sorted and restocked it was noon, when the bar opened. While Bucky primarily worked the bar, most days he found himself taking and serving orders as well. The place brought in a decent profit but normally wasn’t busy until later hours, and by that time a few days out of the week Bucky was getting ready for a show. Tonight, though, he was working a full shift at the bar. He enjoyed the atmosphere, the old-timey big band music, and for the most part the customers were pleasant. 

For a good majority of the early evening it was easy-going and almost mundane, if not for the teasing every once in a while from the Commandos:  _ “Is that him? He’s kinda handsome.” “What about that guy in the corner? His hair’s sorta blond, right?” “What about that guy walking the dog outside? Older fella, sure, but who knows your taste?” _

It was all fun and games until they were actually fucking right.

Of course, as his luck would have it, the same man who he’d given a lap dance and a hard-on to last night  _ had _ to walk through the door, following his sandy-haired friend.

It was nearing dusk and the bar was picking up, as was usual. Morita and Dum Dum caught sight of the man and looked at each other, sharing a “Nah.”

“He’s  _ too _ attractive. No way Barnes could land that.” Dugan commented, giving Bucky a nudge. Bucky, meanwhile, was too busy staring in shock. The others quickly picked up on exactly what the pure panic on his face meant.

“Holy fuck, no  _ way! _ ” Jim whispered. 

Bucky quickly pulled his hair back and double checked that his dog tags were hidden beneath his shirt. 

“Listen fuckers,” he hissed, “I don’t want him knowing who I am or what I do so I’d appreciate it if you left him alone and let me do my job.”

“I don’t know, don’t think you can top last night’s job.” Jones pitched in, placing a plate of food in the window. Jacques said something in French from the grill which had Gabe laughing uncontrollably. Bucky kept telling himself one of these days he’d learn the language just to figure out what the fuck those two said behind everyone’s backs.

“Don’t you have more orders to fix?” Bucky snarked, taking the plate and serving it to a woman sitting at the bar. Of course, as luck would have it, the Blond Beauty, as Morita put it, and his buddy sat a few seats down.

_ Calm the fuck down, he’s just a customer. No way he’ll notice you, you’ve at least got clothes on. _

Plus this was a prime example of why he always wore a mask; so no one would know. Of course he also never ran into someone the very next  _ day _ at his own fucking _ bar. _

“Welcome to the Howling Commandos, what can I get you to drink?” He introduced politely. This time the man was wearing a red checkered flannel over a black shirt, the sleeves cuffed at his forearms (fucking hell one of the hottest things a man can do but  _ so much hotter on him _ ), and his friend was in a loose purple t-shirt with a white bullseye on it.

“Y’know what? I think I want an amaretto sour.” The man said, glancing at the wall of liquor.

“Really, Steve? We come to a bar and  _ that’s _ what you get?” His friend teased.

Steve. Huh.

The man, whose name was apparently Steve, rolled his eyes and gave Bucky a friendly “kill me now” stare, which Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at. Seemed like Steve had his own Natasha.

“Make it two.” His friend decided, to which Steve laughed and held his head in his hands.

“You’re something else, Clint.” He mumbled.

“Two amaretto sours. Got it.” Bucky said, already grabbing glasses. He made the drinks and checked if they wanted time to look over the menu (which they did), gave them a couple of waters, and in the meantime turned his attention to his other customers. They ordered, he served them, all was well. It didn’t seem like Steve recognized him. Why Bucky was slightly upset at that he had no fucking clue.

The pair stayed for a while, getting another round of drinks and taking their time working through their meals. Most of the people had taken off, a few filling in their places for the time being, which left Bucky with some downtime. It was a weeknight, so it was likely the bar wouldn’t hit its usual rush quite so bad.

“So what kind of dance was it?” Dugan teased with a snicker, drying glasses from the kitchen and placing them beneath the bar counter. All the fuckers had seen him perform, and of course in true Howling Commandos fashion they had been raucous and leaning towards drunk. They cheered the loudest, made a show of throwing plenty of ones his direction, and made quick friends with Natasha. In hindsight, that was probably one of the worst decisions of his life.

Bucky ignored Dugan’s jab with a roll of the eyes and instead focused on wiping off the bar. When it seemed like the pair was finished, Bucky cleared their plates and asked if they’d like the check.

“Yes please, I’m paying.” The other one, Clint, informed. “I’m going to the bathroom, you two have fun together.” The man gave Bucky a wink and a knowing grin behind Steve’s back. When he turned to leave, he had his hands behind him like -  _ shit, _ like they were  _ tied together _ \- and he was making grinding motions with his hips. He waggled his fingers and shot another grin Bucky’s way before finally sauntering off to the bathroom.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he felt his cheeks burn.  _ Fuck. _ His fucking friend  _ knew. _

Steve, who was thankfully too busy rolling his eyes to notice Bucky’s shock, shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got one of my own too.” Bucky commented, forcing himself to engage in friendly small talk, willing the blush to fade.

“Really? A walking human disaster?” Steve queried. His gorgeous cobalt eyes were even more beautiful in this light.

“Not so much, but she’s very nosy and not very subtle.” He returned. 

“Yeah, that’s Clint.” Steve agreed. “He’s been dragging me all around town trying to get me outta the house.”

“You just move here?” Bucky asked, not at all hopeful he’d say yes.

“Yep.”  _ Yes! _ “I used to live here when I was a kid, but I had to move away for family reasons, and then, well, I was deployed. I didn’t realize how much I missed Brooklyn until I came back.”

Good. Maybe Bucky’d see his face more often, either at the club or the bar. He didn’t mind either way, though it was probably best it stuck to one or the other. His friend already recognized him somehow, and he really hoped he wouldn’t pass the information to Steve. Fuck, he really hoped he hadn’t  _ already _ and that this wasn’t just a show.

How the man watching him from the crowd recognized him but the one he gave a full-on lap dance to didn’t Bucky considered a miracle.

“Welcome home.” He said, flashing Steve a grin. Right there in that shared moment, Bucky felt the same magnetism as last night; some unknown force that seemed to slow time as he gazed into the man’s eyes. He didn’t know what it was about the guy, but he genuinely wanted to get to know him. Maybe...y’know...even date him.

The moment was ruined when Clint returned, running a dripping wet hand over the back of Steve’s neck while whispering,  _ “Moist.” _

While Bucky was slightly peeved he’d ruined whatever was going on between them, Steve’s reaction was priceless and well worth it.

“Goddammit, Barton!” He yelped, his shoulders hunching. Meanwhile Clint was busy snickering and wiping his hand on his jeans.

“I’ll get you the check.” Bucky offered with a wink, smiling as Steve tried to wipe the water from his neck. When he returned, Clint glanced at the price, counted out some bills, and threw them on the table.

“Keep the change.” He said. From the looks of it, he  _ way _ overtipped. Bucky thanked him graciously and collected the cash.

“Well it was nice meeting you…” Steve trailed off, presumably asking for a name.

“Bucky.” He provided.

“Bucky.” He repeated. “I’m sure we’ll be back soon.”

_ I hope so, _ Bucky thought.

“With food that good? Hell yeah we’ll be back soon.” Clint pitched in. Steve laughed and gave a quick wave to Bucky, which he returned, before heading out. His friend had stuck close to Bucky.

“You’re not gonna tell him, are you?” Bucky asked lowly once Steve was out of earshot.

“Oh hell no.” Clint assured. “Steve’s gonna have to figure that one out on his own. Don’t be surprised if I take him back to the club, though.” 

Bucky let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” 

“No problem.” He returned with another wink. “Hey, how much would it cost for me to get that special treatment?”

“Two hundred.” Bucky answered flatly.

“Fuck, maybe I oughta lighten my hair and bulk up. What would it cost then?” 

“Fuck off.” Bucky laughed, Clint’s eyes crinkling as he followed suit. He had to admit the guy was attractive, though his eyes were dead set on Steve.

“I’ll bring him back so you can gaze into each other's eyes.” He promised. Bucky shook his head and grinned. “But seriously though, that was the most fun I think Steve’s had since he came back. No kidding, as soon as we got out of there and back to our apartment he basically  _ ran _ to his fuckin’ room.” 

Oh.  _ Oh. _ Yeah, that was something he probably should’ve heard when he  _ wasn’t fucking working. _

“Sorry to give you a  _ hard time _ about it.” He joked. Fucking hell he was just as bad as the others.

“Jesus Christ, just go.” Bucky groaned. Clint laughed and Bucky watched as he jogged to catch up with Steve. When he cashed the money and found Clint had given him a thirty dollar tip, he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

Must’ve been payment for last night.

He finished up taking care of the remaining diners, and before long it was time to close up shop. He was thankful for the early weeknights.

“Did he recognize ya?” Dugan asked while Bucky wiped off all the tables and stacked the chairs.

“No, but his friend did.” Bucky admitted. “He said he wouldn’t tell, though.”

“I gotta say, Natasha’s description didn’t do the guy justice.” Morita said. “I mean  _ damn _ Barnes, how’d you manage that?”

Bucky huffed.

“I’m never gonna live this down, am I?” 

“With the way you were completely flirting with him earlier? Oh hell no.” Gabe chimed in.

Okay, Bucky will admit, he was totally flirting. But in his defense, he was pretty sure Steve was flirting back. Or at least half sure. 

Maybe sure.

Either way, he really hoped his friend was true to his word and brought Steve back. To the club or the bar, he didn’t care...though he preferred the bar. While the other option was an exceptionally wonderful experience, he really wanted to actually talk with the guy, and it’s not like he could keep giving him a special treatment. He just hoped Steve remained oblivious to who he was, at least for a while.

“So, are you gonna tell Nat or am I?” Dugan asked.

“I’ll tell her.” Bucky groaned. If his information was getting passed around he’d rather deliver the news to Natasha himself now as opposed to facing an angry Russian later. It would in no way stop the teasing and the plotting, but it would at least save him from excessive pestering.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for a "turn your lead into a personification of one of the seven deadly sins" prompt and of course I wrote Bucky as lust...it kinda maybe got out of hand a little. Please let me know what you think and if there are any errors, I'd love to hear your feedback! And, as I said before, this'll be turned into a full-out fic if enough people seem to like it.


End file.
